Portions For Foxes
by Flor x De x Amor
Summary: "He's my damage control, and I'm most likely his as well; people like he and I, we're just walking corpses that need something to look forward to in their day." Based on the song "Portions For Foxes" By Rilo Kiley


**AN: **I always tell myself to upload something & I never do... I have like a bunch of started stories saved, but finally I have uploaded one. This was actually an one-the-spot creation that spawned from a spamano plot idea I had in mind for awhile while I was up late recently chatting away on skype and was forced to write a dear friend of mine a bedtime story. So, I decided I could just go with this instead of the way I originally planned to write the plot, it's all cleaned up and spamano now for you guys. The song I based this off on is Portions For Foxes by Rilo Kiley. Oh, and this starts off in Lovino's pov.

**Warning:** Sprinkling of foul language, Non-explicit sexual mentions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia nor the song "Portions For Foxes"... though i can play it on guitar.

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This snarky attitude of mine, I always considered it a curse and a gift. It leads to things that could be avoided, but it also lead to satisfactory results - rendering an enemy speechless and humiliating them, for example. I try to avoid problems; there is no need for more, so I stick to closing my mouth and biting my tongue. They could take my silence how they wanted, be it cowardly or otherwise, but I felt I was doing them a favor by sparing them the embarrassment. However, there is always that one exception to whatever rule you follow by. Whenever my exception came around, he could illicit these brash comments and responses from me with an ease that was criminal, breaking the silence is golden rule I had going on. He'd curl his lips into this infuriatingly alluring smirk, and we would parry with our words back and forth, and it would always lead to something that could be considered a victory for us both.

Sex. This was another result produced by my way of proceeding that left me without complaint. This victory only could feel like a victory for so long though; there was little connection between us but this physically intimate one. He was no stranger to my fingertips; I have explored the plains and valleys, nooks and crannies of his body time and time again. I knew his anatomy better than anyone, even the woman who birthed him did. When it came to knowing him as more than a bed partner, however, I wasn't as familiar. It's not like I was sleeping with a random person, we were friends before we were... whatever this was, friends with benefits, maybe. The minor things, the basic things, those were the things I had knowledge about when it came to him. I knew his favorite color, the music genre he preferred, the movies he liked, what he ate and was allergic to, things like that.

Then I started noticing the smaller, more personal things about him – how he had a dimple on the left side of his cheek when he smiled, how he liked his coffee in the morning, how he never mentioned his parents, how he put the happiness of others before his – and that's when I became aware of how wrong this was. It bothered me, learning these things; it made me acknowledge that he was also learning such things about me. I was becoming worried about him catching feelings, when all I was originally gaining from this was relief. I'd be stringing him along if an "I love you" came through his luscious lips, at least I think I would be. This is where the other factor comes in, I wasn't quite sure about my own feelings anymore, which made it even more of problem: if I wasn't sure about how I felt, then when push comes to shove, he'd probably be an emotional mess. I may be quick to react, and painfully honest, but it didn't mean I was without a heart.

When I look in the mirror, the reflection shows troubled and narrowed hazel eyes, lips pulled into a tight line, brunette locks disheveled in a fashion only sex could pull off. Thinking about how this could end, it makes me disappointed in myself, it makes me feel horrible, I feel disgusted that I could do something to him like this. Bad news, that's what I am, indeed. I think what made it so easy to succumb myself into this was the empty house that waited for me every day, the lack of intimate touches from family or otherwise, or even the lack of acknowledgment as growing up. My own mother and grandfather were not too fond of me, I was a burden to them, and they always seemed to like my younger brother, Feliciano, better. I'm pretty sure they might have thrown a fucking celebration party when I left for college far away from their vicinity. That left them with the good child, the one they actually cared about and showered with attention.

Loneliness does things to you, it makes you long for things that you never too paid much attention to. The first time he led me to his bedroom and we laid there afterward cuddling, I felt better in a way. I was still lonely, I still longed for things, but this made me feel relieved and content temporarily. I got so used to this development mentally, that on those cold nights where I'd fall asleep alone in my seemingly spacious bed and awoke horrified, I'd dial him up without much thought and demand him over. I'd like to think these night calls don't bother him, he's never complained nor declined, and that he comes running at this beckon. He knows about my reoccurring nightmares, he had firsthand seen the tossing and turning that comes about with them and my terrified face when I wake, and without question he always melts into my sloppy panic driven kisses.

I'm probably the only selfish thing he's ever done for himself, and I'm not going to take this accomplishment away from him. I have no doubt he has his own personal problems that lead him to this, and maybe he needs it as much as I do. He's my damage control, and I'm most likely his as well; people like he and I, we're just walking corpses that need something to look forward to in their day. At a time when we were just friends, I found out his favorite animals were foxes. In my junior year and his senior year in high school, we were still pretty childish, when we playfully argued he'd tell me, "Yeah? Well go get eaten by a fox." When I sit alone, leaning back and taking a break from course work, I would think about that. Maybe one day, I would be viciously attacked and snacked on by a fox. I've decided to stick with this idea that we'll all be portions for foxes eventually. It seems like a fitting end.

**Antonio POV**

I have to admit I've never had much confidence in myself. I never had any ambitions, and my focus was always trying to help my friends and my siblings. I did more for them than for myself, mostly because I knew that they'd get somewhere in life. I had no faith in my own success. I dropped out somewhat past the midpoint of senior year, I didn't want to do the work, and I saw no reason to continue in that hellhole when I didn't even have a silver of an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I would have been in my second year of college right now, if I hadn't made that decision. My parents were furious at me, and they still are, they pretty much shun me. I got my GED and found a job, and it was only a year later that I moved out and was on my own.

My friends didn't judge me, and they still keep in contact with me. One particular friend of mine never looked at me any different; he was still the same temperamental guy he's always been. We tease each other a lot, and he's a lot of fun to be around, despite people thinking he's unapproachable. I always had a crush on him, he never noticed though. Yet, when I ended up in bed with him, I didn't ever bother confessing. I played along with this little game we had. It gave me a chance to be closer to him, despite the fact that he probably didn't think of me as more than a fuck buddy. It hurt to think that, but I've learned to suck it up. I couldn't break this off even if I wanted to, I'd be crazy to. He's this beautiful thing that barely ages, and when he flutters his eyelashes and speaks in that seductive tone, I can deceive myself into thinking he's into me.

So, I'll keep being herded along, because I want this, I want him.

**Lovino POV**

It happened, that slip of tongue I was dreading.

You know what he told me?

"I love you, and it's alright if you don't feel the same."

I think he noticed the look in my eyes recently, the way I sometimes hesitate when touching him, because this is what he told me next:

"Don't worry about me though. I'm alright with this, don't feel bad. Everyone gets lonely, but we have each other."

We came out to our respective friends as a couple the next week, even though I never told him what I actually felt. My friends weren't too fond of us dating, they knew about his dead end job and how he dropped out senior year. They told me that he isn't good for me. I don't care what they say, really, it's already too late for their opinions. And he happened to find this out as well because when he asked me why I didn't listen to them when he overheard one time, I told him why.

"I don't care, I like you."

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**I haven't necessarily decided whether to make this a multichap or not, reviews would help me decide. c:**


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